First Kill
by Natalie Rushman
Summary: Another Thor and Loki "childhood" story. This one where Loki makes his first kill. Originally that was going to be it, but the rest of it was just begging to be written and I hope it doesn't suck too badly.


Thor: roughly 15-16

Loki: roughly 12-13

**First Kill**

"Well, go on."

Loki's eyes flicked to his brother, a frown between his brows.

Thor took the reigns of his horse which he stood, holding in his hand, "It is your hunt. It is only right that you make the kill."

Loki reluctantly relinquished the reigns, making no move toward the fallen animal, a cold, sick feeling in his stomach. He never liked this part. The killing. Once again, and for a completely new reason now, he was glad that he and Thor had come here alone.

He had never been the one to do it.

He was the better tracker, Sif and Hogan were the only two in the group who came close to his skill with it, but he had never been the one to do the killing. He had seen it done a thousand times. He wasn't afraid of the blood.

But he didn't want to do it.

They had run the creature to exhaustion, chasing it and tracking it down the pathways it thought known to the animal-kind alone, and now it lay panting on the ground, fully expecting the cut that would take its wild life.

The cut Loki would make.

Its eyes were open as it lay there, gasping, looking at him.

"Go on,"

Thor's voice sounded suspiciously like he was laughing at him.

He didn't dare look to his older brother. The trepidation roiling up in his breast was bad enough when he alone knew of its presence. Steeling himself, he drew his hunting knife and moved quickly toward the prone animal. Before he could loose whatever momentum he had, Loki dropped to his knees, took the warm, soft chin in his palm and slit its throat.

The body jerked for a moment, blood pumping from the new wound, then the moment passed and the eyes went dark. Blood oozed crimson from the slash, like a ragged gaping mouth, staining the short, white fur, pooling crimson on the ground around his knees.

"Thor,"

His hands and knife were covered with the fluid. Dark and sticky and foul-smelling, slippery. He let go the head with a slight jerk.

"Is it done?" there was a nervous clanking, "Shh, StormFire, calm yourself,"

"It is." There was blood everywhere. On the ground. On him.

"Hold, StormFire, blasted horse," then to him again, "I'll be right there."

The words reached him distantly, through a throbbing pounding through his head. Through the blood pooling hotly around his knees. His body twisted, suddenly, and he was violently sick into the tall grass at the base of the trees.

"Loki!" he wasn't sure if the exclamation was alarmed or laughing. Didn't care either. But then Thor was there, holding back his hair, which had grown long, rubbing his back.

He sat up, after a moment, breathing slowly, eyes closed.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm –" he went to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, but opened his eyes fast enough to remember the blood. Fast enough to see the clump of hair he'd pulled from the animal as he moved, caught in his fingers around the hilt of his knife, sickly dark and matted thick and wet with blood. He lurched forward as his stomach heaved up anything that may have been forgotten the first time.

When it was done, Thor left him, patting him wordlessly on the shoulder, and came back with water to wash away the crimson slime on his hands. He stood very cautiously, not at all sure of his own legs and a little dizzy.

"Are you alright?" Thor asked again.

Loki nodded.

"Why don't you go and wait with the horses. I'll be there in a moment."

Loki nodded again and went over to his horse, StormFire. He leaned against the strong neck, twinning his fingers into the dark mane, grateful for the animal's stability. The horse whinnied softly, nuzzling his shoulder. He was the only person StormFire allowed to ride, he rarely even let another care for him, hence the trouble Thor always had when he tied up their mounts. The others thought the spirited horse a nuisance, but Loki loved him. StormFire nudged his shoulder again, sending him back a pace. Loki laughed, raising a hand, running it down the long nose. He noticed with some distaste that his hands were still shaking. He closed his eyes and leaned his weight against the animal again, letting out his breath slowly.

He hated for Thor to see him this way, weak and sick like a girl at the sight of a little blood, as if he'd never seen a thing killed.

But he'd never killed before. To watch a thing die and to take a thing's life were vastly different. He tightened his hand in the dark mane, screwing his eyes shut, desperately glad that they'd lost the others. Bad enough for Thor to see him weak.

"Loki,"

He turned, loosing the horse's mane from his hand, startled and ashamed that Thor had caught him like that. Thor wasn't looking at him, but out toward a bird-call that had gone up about a bow shot away. Loki followed his glance, but saw nothing.

"Here,"

He turned back to his brother and saw that he was holding out the knife. Loki realized that he had left it on the ground when he had gone to the horses. Left it wet and bloody in the dirt. Thor had cleaned it for him and was offering it back. He felt himself flush and, mumbling his thanks, shoved it back into its sheath. Thor still hadn't taken his eyes from that place on the horizon. "What is it?"

Thor didn't answer. He turned and untied his horse, BrightStreak, vaulting easily onto his back, "We should find the others. They'll help us bring it in."

They were riding several minutes before Thor turned to look at him, "It gets easier," he said, "the first time is always the worst."

Loki didn't answer. He wasn't at all sure that he would ever be comfortable killing.

No matter how many times he did it.

~.~

"There you are!"

Thor and Loki had been riding in near silence for almost an hour, when finally, Sif's bright voice rang out through the woods. Thor's head shot up and he smiled, "My friends!"

"And where did you two wander off to?" Fandril asked, riding up behind her.

"I should hope they had more luck than we did," Volstag commented.

Thor laughed, delighted, "We found our quarry, and it is slain."

"Where is it?" asked Hogan,

"We left him where he fell. Loki did the killing." Thor beamed proudly at his dark-haired brother. Of the six, Loki, being the youngest, had been the last to finally end a hunt. Now all of them were equal.

There was a strange rumbling sound nearby.

Hogan sat suddenly very straight.

Volstag said, "Did you hear –"

"What was that?" Fandril turned, in the saddle.

"Listen," Sif's voice was sharp.

Thor tensed, scanning the surrounding area for any sign. The bird's he'd heard had told him of something in the forest that was not supposed to be there. And the rumbling that was reverberating around them again now was definitely not something he'd encountered in all his experience of the forest. He sorely missed Mjolnir. He'd only been allowed to train with the hammer for a few weeks now, but already he knew what an asset such a weapon could be.

The ground beneath them shifted.

"Thor!"

He ignored his brother's cry because he saw it too. A creature, scaly and terrible came creeping around the rocks. It was only about as big as one of their horses, but its teeth and claws gleamed fiercely as it readied itself to pounce.

They had no weapons. Leastwise, none that could be used against this creature. Not this way. "Scatter!"

The order was given only just in time. The creature lunged forward, and if Sif hadn't moved, it would have landed on top of her. "Free the horses!" Hogan shouted. Thor saw what he did and immediately dismounted, slapping BrightStreak's flank, sending him galloping out into the woods. The horses scattered, yet more movement for the creature to follow, more distraction. Plus, dismounted riders became less of a target, especially among the huge boulders that surrounded the area.

The creature pounced again and they all darted to different clusters of rock.

"What do we do?" Sif panted beside him, "I haven't anything we can use against it."

"I don't know," Thor said. He almost smiled. It was a unique challenge.

~.~

The fun began to wear out though, after some time, with several of their number cherishing injuries, and the creature was still completely unwearied.

~.~

The creature had driven them far from their original battleground. Thor knew this place. He and Loki had wandered here several times. Knew enough of the terrain to know that the creature was pushing them toward a cliff. Knew enough of their present condition to know that they had very little chance.

The thing was prowling closer to the place he crouched, knife in hand. Thor gathered himself up ready to attack the creature when it pounced. He was tired of running. There was a thunk sound and the creature roared, turning fiercely away. Thor peered around the boulder. Loki stood atop a boulder a stone's throw away, his hand still upraised from the rock he'd thrown to get the creatures attention. The thing was only a few yards away from him.

"No!"

It pounced and Loki dropped.

Thor was on his feet about to attack the thing when something barreled into him, knocking him cleanly from his feet, forcing all the air from his lungs.

It was Loki.

"Brother!"

"Shut up!" his eyes were closed, hands up against his temples, brow knit in intense concentration.

"What are you –"

Loki shuddered.

Thor's eyes flicked over the rock. Loki was there too – or – _an illusion!_

Moments later there was a crumbling, roaring crash, and all was still.

Loki gasped, crumpling forward, just barely catching himself before he hit the ground.

"Was that…?"

"An illusion," he panted, "never – never tried that before," he rubbed a shaking hand across his face, "never like that," his head went down as he fought to catch his breath.

Thor put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder, "It was well done," he shrugged, laughing a little, "not really the way I would go about it but, all the same, well done."

Loki's head rose and he smiled.

"Thor!"

"Loki!"

"Thor!"

"We're here," Thor stood. When Loki didn't immediately follow him, he turned. Loki rose slowly, but swayed a little on his feet. Thor didn't know what it was like to use the kind of magic Loki did, but he remembered Loki's reaction to his first killing, and it occurred to him how tired the boy must be. Loki glanced up, reading his thoughts as he somehow always could, "I'm fine."

They gathered in a little clearing, sinking wearily onto the ground to wait for the horses. Hogan blew the horn that would call their mounts back. None of them were badly hurt, a few scratches, a little blood.

"We're remarkably lucky," Fandril said cheerfully,

"Especially considering that we were surprised," Sif said, "and had no real weapons." She sheathed her knife.

"Well, think what could have happened," Fandril continued, spreading his hands.

"I'd rather not," Volstag this time, "It turns the stomach," there was a brief pause, "speaking of which, I am in intense need of sustenance. It has been hours since our last meal. Where _are_ those horses?"

"Here they come," came Hogan's low voice and everyone looked up sharply to see the horses, "At last!" Volstag exclaimed, "I'm famished!"

"You're not planning on eating _them_, are you?" Sif laughed.

"If we run into any more disturbances I might be."

"It's too bad Loki ran the thing off the cliff," Fandril chuckled, "we might have cooked that."

"I'd be willing to eat it raw!"

"My friends," Thor rose, "we have won a great victory today. All Asgard will sing of it."

"After supper." Volstag added, grasping the reigns of his horse and swinging himself up. Everyone else laughed, except, Thor suddenly noticed, his brother. Loki had been oddly silent after his exploits. He glanced down, extending his hand, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Loki snapped, ignoring the offered help.

With a shrug, Thor let it go, striding over to the place where BrightStreak waited patiently for his rider.

~.~

It was growing dark as they rode through the forest. It had been a long day, and Sif was tired. Overjoyed at the outcome of their adventure, but weary all over her body. The creature troubled her. She had never seen it's like in Asgard before. That didn't mean it wasn't something that had always been there, but she should have known about it. Whatever it was, she should have known at least the name by which it was called.

The rider before her wavered, then fell with a dull thud.

"Loki!"

Sif was out of her saddle quickly, but not nearly as fast as Thor was.

"Brother, what happened?"

Loki's murmured answer was lost under Volstag's question, "What happened?"

"I don't know. Loki fell down."

"He's fine," Thor's voice floated through the dark.

"Will he be alright to ride?" she asked.

"BrightStreak will hold two. Would you lead StormFire, Sif?"

"Of course."

Not my best ending, but it'll have to do 'cause that's all I got.

You have no idea how hard it was to not call Thor's horse 'FlashLight', but we couldn't really do that, now, could we? ;)


End file.
